Change the past to change the future
by DarkestAngellic
Summary: One simple mistake with Time Materia is all it takes to give someone the chance to rewrite history for one person, and in doing so saving the many. WARNING: mentions of character death, including that of a child. You have been warned.


_**Disclaimer: I own nothing from FFVII, not the settings, not the characters, not the names. Nothing. I own absolutely nothing. It is all the property of the wonderful Square Enix.**_

* * *

It was an accident with far-reaching consequences. A simple error, a flicker of movement to dodge a bullet. That was all it took.

Blinding light burns away hope of sight, all of them stumbling around as glass shatters under the hit of a bullet and power explodes outward, blasting them all off their feet with unnatural force. One is thrown further, much further, tossed into the threads of past, present and future which hum within Time Materia.

Pained moans and anxious calls confirm friend and foe alike are present, until someone realises a missing person.

"Where did Chaos go?"

* * *

For what feels like an eternity he is flipped over and over again, spinning out of control and unable to correct the positions of limbs and wings. Sound deafens him until he can hear nothing but a sharp, high-pitched whistle, vivid colours blurring together to form one endless sea. A dull humming fills his body and drums against his bones even as skin sizzles and burning flesh stings his nostrils. Lifestream. _Is he dying?_

No. This is an opportunity, a once in a lifetime chance - and Chaos understands _those_ very well - to correct past wrongs and save countless lives. Spare innocents from the death and destruction wrought by the game of chess between Goddess and Calamity.

He is thrown from the current so suddenly that he cannot twist to land on his feet, and so ploughs into the ground on his side, his shoulder crunching with the force of impact. He ignores the pain in favour of staggering upright and staring at the land laid out before him. Young land, vibrant, bursting with Mother Nature's bounty. Untouched by mortals. For now. The past, then. He has emerged at a key point in the past, or just before it. A chance to right the wrongs…

Unbidden, a face flashes in his mind. The broken, haunted face of one with a desire to be normal, long since extinguished. The second most important piece in the Calamity's ranks of black. To save him the queen had to be taken out. The key player, and then all others killed off one by one. All the heartache could end. All the pain and suffering and needless fighting… it could all be avoided if _one man_ died. And so Chaos walks amongst the shadows to the place it all began: **Nibelheim**.

* * *

He is careful with Lucrecia, his hatred for her quietening somewhat when he witnesses the secretive glances at her growing bump, the fleeting touches and soft croons to her unborn baby boy. Maternal instincts her scientific mind had overruled with Hojo's constant wheedling in Chaos' version of the past. Already he can see she is too thin, too pale, sickly. Jenova's cells have already been introduced. But the process has only just started. He can tell. There is hope yet, opportunity still. He just had to act quickly.

He knocks his former host out first, so different with his short hair and his heart free of agony, layering several sleep spells one on top of the other to keep his unenhanced friend unconscious for the hours needed. Lucrecia is next, slumbering peacefully in the strong cradle of his arms while he transports her to the safety Vincent is housed in. And then he returns to the mansion for a third time, stalking the halls and hidden corridors as the predator he is, killing all in his way and those who cower in the side-lines. Only two are spared in his hunt for Hojo: Gast, and Aerith's blood-mother. They flee when he offers them escape, and then the path is clear to the madman.

Chaos has no time for torture nor play. Has no time to make the maggot suffer his own poison. Hojo has no chance to scream when deadly quick claws slice through his pathetic neck, his human tissues unable to put up resistance to the unnatural strength Chaos has. The head hits the floor first, followed by the body, and then Chaos starts the fire to trump all blazes.

By the time ShinRa employees extinguish the flames all that remains is a charred collection of broken rock and razed wood, all collapsed into the underground tunnels. All documentation, all back-up files, every mako tank and every failed experiment, the bodies, everything is gone.

* * *

He slips through the Turks' fingers time and time again as he draws ever closer to his chosen prey. Oh they are heavily protected, father and son, but who can possibly stop a true creature of the night _fashioned_ to kill? President ShinRa dies with a single bullet carving a bloody, fatal path through his skull and brain. His son, Chaos having waited until two years after his birth, knows no pain. The demon simply uses Sleep on the boy to have him rest, pouring his own power into the spell so the child never opens his eyes again. A peaceful end to a life doomed to lies and corruption. With the leader and his heir gone, Chaos sweeps through the other important figures. He spares two: Reeve Tuesti, and Veld of the Turks, his successor already confirmed to be Tseng.

* * *

The young boy is the same and yet different to the man he remembers from a time now erased. There is something soft and pure about him, untouched by science even though foreign cells are present in his body. A handful of cells, unable to reconfigure his DNA.

Wide eyes of stunning jade watch him without fear, only slack-jawed amazement, as he emerges from the shadows and moves to the boy on silent footsteps. He kneels to the child's eye level and reaches out to cup that innocent face in infinitely tender warmth. He knows there are tears, he can feel the warm tracks they leave on his face even though he makes not one sound. Two tiny hands are engulfed in his, and he manages a smile for the silent youngster. They won't be meeting again.

"Live free."

* * *

Jenova fights him as much as she is able, and the damage she deals is immense, but Chaos was designed for this fighting. This desperate thrashing to free one's self from death's grip. He has always had the strength and power to finish this, but being shackled to Vincent in his own time had both weakened and blinded him.

The power to kill immortals pounds like a drum against his skull, quickens the flow of blood through his veins and black lightning bursts into full, glorious life across his skin. This ends here and it stops now. No-one else shall suffer because of this bitch. No insane Sephiroth. No Remnants. No Reunion. No experiments. No Geostigma. And through Hojo's death - no DeepGround.

There are two pieces left on the chess board. One black, one white. And with the image of a silver-haired boy laughing in his mother's arms clear in his mind, Chaos removes both.

An explosion heard across the entire Planet, a bright flash in the sky, a wave of pure power wiping away each and every cloud for one single moment, and then it is gone. No Calamity. No Harbinger. No fight. Just the collective sigh of relieved souls within the Lifestream and the quiet smile of a weary Goddess.

…_Find your peace, Sephiroth…_


End file.
